The Wright Anything Bakery
by 6GunSally
Summary: Trucy knows that Daddy's going to need new clothes when he returns to the courtroom and she takes it upon herself to make sure he gets the very best. But the very best costs money which Daddy doesn't really have. Trucy decides to take this matter into her own hands, but Phoenix and Apollo are aware of one fatal flaw. Can they end this madness before disaster strikes? NOW COMPLETE
1. Part 1: Daddy's New Shoes

_**Disclaimer: Ace Attorney and all characters are copyright by CAPCOM; I'm just a fan imitating. The stories presented are influenced by the multiple games as well as the comic (Manga written by Kenji Kuroda).**_

_**This story is in response to a challenge posted by AceFangirl.**_

* * *

**Part One**

**Daddy's New Shoes**

"Trucy!" He called when he entered the cluttered office of the Wright Anything Agency, "Trucy, I'm home."

"Daddy!" She said coming out of her room and meeting him at the door, "Daddy, you're beaming. What—?"

"I'm a lawyer, Trucy," he said grinning broadly, "I passed!"

She stared.

He held up a letter and shook it in the air, "I've been re-instated!"

"Oh Daddy!" She ran and threw her arms about his neck, her cape a swirl of blue, she slammed into him so hard Phoenix almost fell into the door behind him.

As it was, the door had been pulled open at that same moment, revealing a very perplexed Apollo Justice, who was promptly buried under Phoenix and his daughter.

"Eh…?" Apollo said.

"Ow…" Phoenix said.

"Daddy, I'm so proud of you," Trucy stared down at her adoptive father and shook her head wistfully, like a proud parent.

It took the three of them several awkward minutes to untangle themselves. Trucy skipped into the kitchen gleefully.

"This calls for a celebration! Daddy, I'm going to bake you a cake—"

Phoenix and Apollo—who were still recovering from their crash—ran into the kitchen immediately, and shouted "NO!" simultaneously.

Trucy looked crestfallen—but only for a moment—she cocked her head slightly and smiled, "But Daddy, I want to celebrate—"

"Of course we will Trucy, but it's just that… It takes so long to bake a cake, and then you have to let it cool so you can decorate it and then the icing has to har—"

"Okay, I get it," Trucy crossed her arms, "You don't like my cake—"

"I love your cakes Trucy!" Phoenix grinned, "But I got to watch what I eat—I'm going to be wearing suits in court and I can't—"

"Hey! Mister Wright," Apollo said just catching on, "What's the occasion?"

"I just passed the bar," Phoenix said turning to the younger man. Apollo brightened and grinned.

"Congratulations, Mister Wright," he held out a hand, "It's going to be good to have you back."

Phoenix put a hand on Apollo's shoulder, "Thanks. And thanks for everything… This is as much a victory for you as it is for me."

Apollo stared at him, touched. Phoenix was still smiling. In spite of his less than tidy appearance—sweatshirt, beanie, and several days of stubble—he seemed to stand a little straighter.

"Oi!" Trucy banged on the beam that framed the opening into the kitchen with a wooden spoon, "How about cookies?"

Two men stiffened where they stood.

"Trucy, sweetheart," Phoenix said, "I thought we could go out. Somewhere nice—well—not too nice…"

Trucy beamed, "Oh okay! Polly, do you want to come?"

Apollo grimaced at the nickname, but he said, "Sure. I just came by to grab some paperwork—I have to stop by the police station, but I can meet you guys there."

Trucy glanced at Phoenix, "Take your time. Daddy's going to need some time to get ready."

Phoenix's eyes went wide, "What?"

Apollo and Phoenix chatted for a few minutes in the office while Trucy went into her daddy's room.

Aside from a few empty grape-juice bottles, it was uncluttered—almost bare. He still had that framed picture of them from when she was eight with a smaller picture of two girls in some far away village in the mountains tucked into one edge of it. The bed was sloppily made, but everything seemed in order.

Trucy frowned and opened the closet—there was a winter coat and a few empty hangers, but nothing else. Wait… She pulled the coat out of the corner and found his suit in a dry-cleaning bag. She slid her fingers along the thin plastic lost in thought—he was wearing this the first time she'd ever seen him—he was the defense attorney for that trial after all.

"Trucy?"

She gasped a little in surprise and turned to look at him. He smiled at her with his crooked smile, and she was glad to note that his eyes seemed a little less cynical and tired, but rather harder and more determined. It all clashed a little with his unshaven face and the hat covering his hair.

"Daddy," she said still clutching the thin plastic covering his old suit, "I thought that maybe… Since you've got your badge back and everything…"

"One step at a time, Trucy," Phoenix said.

He came up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders. Her eyes fell to the floor and landed on the saddest pair of loafers she'd ever seen. They were scuffed and starting to peel from time and neglect. He must've noticed what she was looking at because he knelt to pick them up and chuckled sheepishly.

"I don't think these are street worthy," he said.

They both startled and looked up when Apollo called out before exiting the apartment. Trucy glared at him with a sudden flash of resolve.

"Come on, Daddy," she said and gave him a shove toward the tiny bathroom, "You can shave at least. Then we have to go to the mall."

"Trucy I—"

She sat on his bed and thumbed through a magazine about professional musicians—it was at least six months old—and waited for him to get done.

He came out of the bathroom still dabbing a hand towel against his chin. She looked up at him expectantly and he hesitated before pulling the towel away from his face.

Trucy beamed at him, "You're a pretty handsome guy, Daddy."

He raised a concerned eyebrow at her.

"Come on," she said and took his hand and pulled him out the door.

"Trucy, I think we can wait on all of this. I don't have to jump into it today. The ink isn't even dry on all of the paperwork."

"Don't worry Daddy," she said marching him along toward the bus stop at a determined clip, "We have plenty of time to find you some new shoes before we have to meet Polly."

It was a weekday, so the mall was blissfully deserted. Trucy hadn't lost any of the grit or the bounce in her step as she grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the shoe store.

Phoenix looked around in dismay. He never shopped here even when he was a lawyer. He stooped to glare at the price tag on a pair of saddle shoes displayed in the window—for good reason too.

"Trucy, I think this place is kinda out of our um… budget…" He whispered at her to avoid alerting the staff.

"You deserve the best, Daddy," she said and made a beeline for the leather dress shoes.

"I don't need dress shoes for the courtroom," he protested, "Just a pair of sensible loafers."

He sat down heavily in one of the low poufy chairs placed there for customers to try things on.

"Is that—Phoenix Wright?"

He nearly jumped out of the chair at the mention of his name and looked up to see a lovely petite blonde smiling shyly at him from behind a pair of designer glasses.

"Adrian?" He stood and motioned for her to sit in the chair beside his, "It's been forever!"

"A lifetime, almost," she said and they sat down together. Phoenix caught a glimpse of a pair of garish platform stilettos in an animal print. He pointed.

"Special occasion?"

They shared a laugh and she hid them on the floor behind her seat, "Ah… So, how have you been?"

"Good."

"That's nice."

Phoenix turned to look at Trucy. To his dismay she'd already pulled several boxes from the shelves and had them stacked precariously in her arms.

"So, um," he scratched at the back of his head, "Are you still over at Lordly Tailor?"

"I manage the entire store now. They've been good to me. I've started promoting for a small local band… It keeps me busy."

"Yeah," Phoenix said.

"You look great," she said, "it's been what eight nine years?"

"Something like that…thanks," he cleared his throat, "You haven't changed a bit."

She chuckled, "You flatter me. What are doing now-a-days? I haven't seen you in court in a very long time."

Phoenix felt the heat rise in his face, "Oh, well… You see…"

Trucy rescued him in a flurry of shoeboxes plopped on the floor in front of him.

"Try these on Daddy," she said. She hadn't noticed Adrian sitting there.

Phoenix saw a strange look cross Adrian's face as she glanced from Trucy back to him and then repeated the look.

"Uh… Trucy, this is Adrian Andrews, we worked together on a couple of cases a while back. Adrian, my daughter Trucy."

Adrian flipped him a quizzical look before greeting Trucy with a shy smile.

"Hello," Trucy said, "Pleased to meet you. I thought I knew of all of Daddy's friends, but I guess he's more popular than I thought."

"Oh," Adrian giggled, "Well… How old are you Trucy?"

Trucy gave her a startled look before proudly proclaiming, "I'm sixteen."

Phoenix frowned and opened the first box of shoes and dug the socks Trucy made him bring out of his pocket.

"Sixteen?" Adrian not even bothering to hide the note of shock in her voice.

"Oh, yeah," Trucy said, "Daddy adopted me when I was eight…"

"It's a long story," Phoenix said. He was surprised to hear Adrian's small sigh of relief. He almost blushed.

"Daddy passed the bar exam today. So I wanted to get him new shoes to celebrate, if he's going to be an Ace defense attorney, he has to look the part, don't you agree, Ms. Andrews?"

Phoenix dropped his head into hand and grimaced. Adrian looked shocked.

"What happened? I thought you were a lawyer."

"I was disbarred, Adrian," Phoenix said with no small amount of dismay, "Almost eight years ago. I'm finally getting re-instated."

Adrian looked horrified, "Oh, I'm so sorry—I… but congratulations… Sorry…"

Phoenix smiled at her, "Things are on the up and up."

He stood up and looked down at the shoes. Black patent leather, he'd never worn patent leather before. Phoenix took a few steps in front of Adrian and Trucy.

"How do they feel?" Trucy asked.

"Right," Phoenix said and then reached down to pick up the box. He grimaced at the price tag and then sat down to take off the shoe and put them back into the box.

"But I'm sure, I can find something less… formal…"

He didn't see Adrian following his hand as he set the box down before retrieving a different one. Nor did he see Trucy biting her lip at the realization that she and Daddy didn't have a lot of options.

* * *

_**A/N: Thanks for reading! I never realized how much I loved Phoenix and Trucy, they're such an adorable pair. (as father and daughter)**_

_This story is based on a challenge from AceFangirl (posted in Flame Soldier's Challenge forum). She asked for a story about Trucy's inability to bake and Phoenix and Apollo's inability to tell her. I thought it might be interesting to explore Phoenix's return to the courtroom as well. (I can't wait for AA5!) I just wanted to work on something on the side that was less heavy than TURNABOUT HONEYMOON (but I'm not dropping that one)._

_The chapter is a little long, but it's only outlined for four chapters—I'm expecting them to stay about this length. Let's see how close I can hit the mark on this challenge…_


	2. Part 2: One Small Thing

**The Wright Anything Bakery **

**Part Two**

**One Small Thing**

"What happened?" Apollo asked her.

Trucy was frowning. Phoenix had left his bowl of noodles on the table and retreated to his room.

"I've never seen Daddy like this before," she said.

"Was he upset about the shoes?" Apollo said.

"No, they were perfect," Trucy said, "But Miss Andrews bought them. I thought he'd be flattered, but he's not. I think he's…"

"Ashamed? Embarrassed?"

"Oh Polly," Trucy hugged him and Apollo was a little startled. But he put his arm around her and patted her back.

"Don't worry about it Truce," Apollo said, trying to sound unconcerned even though he was a little troubled about Phoenix's behavior too.

"Miss Andrews was only being nice," Trucy said, "She didn't mean to embarrass him. And… And it isn't as if I begged her to buy that pair of shoes. We were still looking, we would've found a more reasonably priced pair."

Apollo nodded in agreement and rubbed his chin.

"You know what this means, Polly?"

"No, what?"

"We've got to earn that money back!"

"Huh?" Apollo said, "Just how much were those shoes anyway?"

"Um…" Trucy said, "threehundredeightysevendollars… plus tax"

"What?" Apollo said wondering if he'd heard her correctly.

"We'll earn back the money! And we'll raise more so that Daddy can have the best suit money can buy!"

"And how are we supposed to earn all of this money?"

"I'll do a couple of extra shows after school—"

"But Trucy—"

"And I'll have a bake sale! People do bake sales all the time! How do you think the Air Force pays for its planes?"

"Uh… What?"

"Yeah! I'll make muffins and coffee cakes and cookies and brownies—you like brownies don't you Polly?"

"Eh?" Apollo said. How do you say this without hurting her feelings?

Trucy let go of him suddenly and disappeared into her room. She returned waving her magic panties, "This is going to be awesome! You'll help me, won't you Polly? And you won't tell Daddy, either?"

"Um sure, Truce," Apollo said.

"I've got sixty-two dollars and some change," Trucy announced happily, "Come on let's go to the grocery store!"

"What now?" Apollo rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

"This can't wait Polly!" Trucy said her large eyes widened earnestly and Apollo choked on any argument he might've tried. He wondered if this worked on Phoenix as well as it did on him.

Apollo sighed and let Trucy drag him out of the office/apartment. With her top hat cocked at a jaunty angle and one hand firmly attached to the front of Apollo's waistcoat she marched toward the bus stop.

The bus was crowded and Trucy had to sit one row up with an old man and Apollo found himself seated next to a man in a fedora who kept chuckling to himself. He glared at the old man beside Trucy, he looked a little creepy.

"Eggs, Flour—all purpose and cake flour and bread flour—sprinkles, icing, cake mix, baking soda—or baking powder? I should get both. Food coloring, sugar, brown sugar, vanilla extract, chocolate chips, walnuts, raisins…"

"Uh, Trucy," Apollo said, "Just how much are you planning to bake tonight?"

"As much as I can. The rest I'll have to do tomorrow and the next day. I don't know how much suits cost—but if the shoes alone are four hundred dollars, I got my work cut out for me."

"Those shoes were four hundred dollars…" Apollo said under his breath. New clothes were one thing, but designer fashion? Maybe this was a little excessive. No wonder Phoenix was embarrassed.

Phoenix exited his bedroom to find the apartment empty.

"Trucy?" he walked around in the silent flat, confused, "Apollo?"

He could've sworn he heard the two of them chatting in here only minutes ago. Phoenix grumbled, he'd have to check the mail then.

He scratched at the beanie he wore and slid on his sandals on the way out. He pulled the bundle of envelopes out of the mailbox with a frown. Already he could recognize the formal rectangular business envelopes that the bills usually came in. The ubiquitous bills.

He flipped through the mail as he went up the stairs. Just inside the apartment one of letters, it was in an oddly shaped envelope—almost square shaped—fell on the floor. He picked it up, it had the weight of a card. Phoenix dropped the pile of bills and junk mail on the dining table and held up the card.

There was no address and no stamp, just his name printed neatly on the front. It must have been hand-delivered. He tore it open and shook out the plain white card. The word 'Congratulations' was embossed in cheerful silver script across the front. He opened the card and smiled at the message.

'I'll see you in court!' it read in a tidy hand and it was signed by none other than Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix turned the card over and then read the message again before picking up his phone. He dialed.

"Justice," Apollo said answering his phone just in time to catch Trucy in his peripheral vision zooming away on a shopping cart.

"Oh hey Ema," he said, "No I'm fine. What's going on?"

Ema chattered about the case she was working on and Apollo's feet betrayed him, stopping his walking and his search for Trucy.

"What are you doing right now?" Apollo asked.

"Right now, right now?" Ema replied, "I was heading out."

"Do you think you could meet me? I think I need your help with something."

"Geez are you in trouble Apollo?" He could hear her crunching on a Snackoo. That was kind of annoying. It would be really annoying if it were anyone else, but he didn't mind if the crunching happened in that cute Ema sort of way.

"It's not anything like that," Apollo said, "But yeah, I need your help."

He told her the name of the grocery store and the location.

"Yeah," Ema said, "I'll be there."

Apollo sighed in relief when the call ended. Then he realized he had no idea where Trucy had got to. Crap.

"Sure," Edgeworth said on the other line, "I know a guy."

"So I'll swing by tomorrow?" Phoenix said.

"I'll come get you, around noon," Edgeworth said.

"Thanks buddy."

"You're welcome, Wright."

Phoenix smiled to himself when the call ended. He looked down at the shoebox at his feet. They really were perfect—the shoes. He'd never worn shoes like these. Of course, he'd have to find a way to pay Adrian back. Trucy shouldn't have accepted the gift—this really was too much.

Trucy. His little girl. No one seemed to take care of him like Trucy.

Phoenix leaned back in his seat and dug the heel of his hand into his eye.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! **

I got asked if this story was going to pair Adrian and Phoenix (I was intrigued by her compliments to him in GS3/AA3 in the DeMasque case and thought maybe Phoenix got a little so'um so'um) but their meeting was only to further the plot. I didn't answer the question because I figured the next chapter would do a better job of that. I thought it would be more embarrassing for him if someone a little further outside of his circle of friends felt the need to help him out. This story isn't about romance between characters, it's focused more on Trucy and Phoenix's relationship.

I'm sorry again, I was trying to keep him away, but Edgeworth keeps coming around. I guess I'm just too much of an Edgeworth Fangirl…


	3. Part 3: A Scientific Solution

**The Wright Anything Bakery **

**Part Three**

**A Scientific Solution**

"I can't even describe how awful—"

"Wait," she cocked her head to one side nibbling a Snackoo, "You lost me at the part about helping raise a 'ton of money', I can't seem to imagine a 'ton' of money—except that's it's an awful lot of money…"

Apollo looked at her for a moment in shocked silence and then rubbed the back of his head, "I'm talking about maybe a grand."

"A thousand dollars!"

"I mean all things considered," Apollo said.

"What do you need a thousand dollars for, again? I thought the shoes were already paid for?"

"Yeah but we're going to pay the money back," Apollo said, "It isn't right to accept a gift like that from someone you barely know."

"Yes, but isn't it kinda rude to pay back the money for a gift that was freely and generously given?"

"Um," Apollo had to stop and think, "You know, I'm not sure. I guess I never focused much on studying etiquette…"

"I wonder what thousand dollar shoes look like?"

Apollo suddenly realized they'd been standing at the grocery store entrance pondering their dilemma and still had to find Trucy. He grabbed Ema by the wrist and pulled her along. They left a Chocolate Snackoo trail from the front entrance through the bakery and down the condiments aisle.

Apollo stopped and looked around. He couldn't remember the last time he went grocery shopping. Mister Wright usually took care of that with Trucy.

Ema whipped out a note pad, "Let's see, shoes like that must be very stylish and durable, but comfortable and functional at the same time. The rest of the suit has to be the same way. I'm not sure how you calculated the cost-benefit ratios for those shoes—but that would make the matching suit astronomical in price."

"Ema, let's just find Trucy and get out of here."

"I'd say that was a reasonable hypothesis—Apollo!"

He was grasping her by the elbow and tugging her along. Canned food. Cereal. Soft drinks…

"I think we must've missed the baking aisle… Did you see her when we went past—Ema?"

"I might as well grab a couple of bags of Snackoos while we're here since—"

"Check," Phoenix said to the pair sitting at the table in front of him. The man reached across the table to cut the deck. Phoenix met his eye directly as he took up both halves of the deck and shuffled them together and then dealt—first to the man, who was sitting to his left, and then to the woman and then himself. One card at a time with a loose deck.

"They said you had a dealer," the woman said.

"Yes, we used to have a dealer," Phoenix said as he looked at his cards in his hand and reordered them, "But we got into it over some… trouble… last year."

"I see," his female opponent said, she smiled prettily at him—she hadn't changed one bit. "I don't suppose you'd hire on a replacement?"

Phoenix looked at her—did she want a job, or was she coming on to him? Maybe she was coming on to him because she wanted the job so badly. He looked at the man and frowned. The guy was still shuffling the cards in his hand making a face that clearly said he wasn't happy with his hand.

Phoenix nodded politely at her, "You'll have to speak with the management about that. I just play the piano…"

The man shot Phoenix a worried look, "C-can I request that we reshuffle? I think that maybe the cards weren't shuffled properly because—well I don't tell you what cards I have in case you say no and I have to play with this hand…" His voice faded so it was nearly imperceptible, "I think I just gave away how bad my hand was…"

Phoenix eyed his own hand—it was terrible. Queen of clubs, Three of hearts; Two of diamonds; eight of spades; six of hearts… Ron still might win this—but then, nobody ever beat Phoenix Wright.

Phoenix bunched his cards together and lay them face first on the table and then dropped a chip in the pot. The woman met his eye shrewdly and then paid in.

"Trucy, either get the cake mix or the cake flour, but you don't need both," Apollo was starting to get flustered.

"But which is better?"

Apollo wanted to tell her that it wouldn't make a difference in her case—but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. Plus, Ema would be helping and baking was kind of like science—right?

"We'd need to conduct cost-benefit analysis to best determine—"

"If you just get cake mix, you won't have to buy a lot of other things… Plus it'll be easier to make a cake from the mix, rather than trying to pull it together from scratch."

Ema poked her head into his and Trucy's discussion, "But then you can't go around telling everyone you made it from scratch. You can up the sale price if it's made from scratch."

"Well," Trucy turned the cake mix box over in her hands, "Can't I just say it's made from scratch anyway?"

"Oh one can tell," Ema said emphatically, "One can tell."

"I don't think it makes a difference when Trucy—" Apollo clamped his hands over his mouth. Trucy and Ema were both staring at him.

Ema threw a Snackoo at his head.

"It's getting late, Ema said, "besides, if you buy much more stuff, I won't be able to fit it in my car."

"Where's Trucy?"

Phoenix startled and swiveled in his chair to face the speaker. Then he smiled.

"I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."

Edgeworth swept his bored stare over the other players at the table. But didn't move from where he was standing.

"Come on, have a seat," Phoenix said, "This is Ron and Desirée DeLite. Why were you asking about Trucy?"

"The manager," Edgeworth said studying the chair with apprehension before sitting, "I asked about you and he told me to tell you that Trucy wasn't here yet."

Phoenix looked at Ron and then Desirée. He grabbed Edgeworth's wrist and looked at his watch.

"I fold…" Phoenix said.

"NOOOOoooooo! PUHLEEEEEEEeeeease!"

Ron crumpled the cards in his hand and started sobbing into the table. Phoenix got up and tugged on his beanie. His expression set and determined. He fingered the locket around his neck and then headed for the stairs.

Edgeworth looked at Desirée, she met his eye for a moment and shrugged before smiling prettily at him. Edgeworth raised an eyebrow and she turned to console her husband. Edgeworth eyed the cards Ron had dropped and scattered on the table and then leaned to sneak a peek at Phoenix's discarded hand.

He gave a slow smile. Then he offered Desirée a small nod before following Phoenix out of the room.

Smoke poured out of the window. Phoenix gasped. Edgeworth pulled out his phone.

"What are you—?"

"I was going to call the fire dep—"

"This is much worse than that…" Phoenix put his head down solemnly and started up the building's front steps.

Edgeworth looked at his phone and hesitated before shoving it into his coat pocket.

"Wright," he said and quickened his steps to catch him up.

"Brace yourself, my friend…" Phoenix said.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Aww, Ema…**

Phoenix: I'M GOING IN!

Edgeworth: OH MY GAWD!

No, just kidding…


	4. Part 4: High Yield Low Overhead

**The Wright Anything Bakery **

**Part Four**

**High Yield Low Overhead**

* * *

"My, look at the time," Edgeworth said pointedly staring at his watch.

Phoenix had one hand on his beanie as he stared into the apartment, he still had yet to find his voice.

"I still have to walk the dog too," Edgeworth said, "Good Evening, Wright."

Phoenix didn't move, "Wha…?"

"Is that Mister Edgeworth?" Ema slammed her hand into Apollo's chest as she clawed her way out of the kitchen and slammed straight into Phoenix Wright. Edgeworth had disappeared.

Apollo frowned and then noticed the shocked expression on Phoenix's face.

"Mister Wright?"

"Justice," Phoenix said snapping out of his silent shock.

"I tried to stop her, sir!" Apollo's voice cracked a little.

Trucy was singing in the kitchen—something by the Gavinners—it might have been charming if it wasn't a Gavinner's song.

Ema looked at Apollo and jumped as if she'd only just realized he was still there.

"Apollo," she said, "I think we've made a very grave error in our calculations."

"Excuse me," Phoenix said and stepped through the door and squeezed between them, "Trucy!"

Trucy poked her face around the edge of the wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. She had a bandana wrapped around her head to keep her hair back and mismatched oven mitts on her hands. There was a dab of flour on her nose and streaks of chocolate and jelly on her apron.

"Hi Daddy," she said cheerfully. She smiled innocently at him and Phoenix sighed.

"Ema," Apollo said and he took her by the elbow and pulled her away from the door, "What do we do now? Mister Wright's in the kitchen…"

"He'll be fine," Ema said, "He's tougher than he looks."

"Things are starting to get out of hand," Apollo said.

"Starting to? Things got out of hand when you let Trucy get him thousand dollar shoes! And we still have to raise money for the suit. You can't abandon her now, Apollo!"

Apollo wasn't even listening to her, his ears were trained on the kitchen. It was quiet.

Too quiet.

"Mister Wright?!"

No answer.

"Come on, Ema," Apollo grabbing her around her elbow, "Before it's too late!"

"Apollo—"

"Mister Wright?"

Trucy was waving a fan over his face her eyes wide and mouth pouting in concern.

Phoenix Wright was laid out on the floor. The offending cupcake still clutched in the fingers of his outstretched hand.

"Is he…" Apollo was afraid to say.

Tears were welling up in Trucy's eyes.

Phoenix…

Wright…

Ema looked at Apollo.

Then she looked at Trucy.

"Seriously, people?" Ema said and stepped on Phoenix's stomach with a sharp jabbing motion just below his ribs.

He sat up immediately and coughed up a few crumbly bits of the cupcake and then gasped for air. Ema kneeled beside him and rubbed his back.

He coughed a few more times and then nodded, he'd gone a very vivid shade of red.

"What happened Daddy?" Trucy asked. Her voice quivered with guilt and concern; she was still clutching the fan to her chest and staring wide-eyed—like she was afraid to touch him.

Phoenix only shook his head at her and forced a smile.

Apollo stared.

Ema crunched on her Snackoos.

Trucy finally broke the silence with a shuddering voice, "D-did my cupcake—?"

"No," Phoenix said and forced another smile, "No, Trucy. That cupcake was awesome—I… I think my throat was just dry…"

Apollo looked mortified. Phoenix grimaced.

"Are you okay, Mister Wright?"

"Do you want me to get you some grape juice, Daddy?"

"Yes, please…" Phoenix croaked.

Trucy brightened again and skipped out of the kitchen.

Phoenix looked at the cupcake he was still holding and glared at it with the most savage amount of hate anyone had ever seen in him before throwing it toward the open window. He missed and it hit the wall with a 'clack' like a bocce ball before dropping to the floor leaving a trail of pink icing and a shallow dent on the wall. Ema, Apollo and Phoenix had all been watching the cupcake with rapt attention and no small amount of dread.

He started to cough again. Ema looked over at Apollo.

She whipped out her notepad and went to study the dent on the wall.

Apollo grinned and shrugged and scratched the back of his head.

Ema returned suddenly and brought the end of a tape measure to Phoenix's forehead.

"Mmmnn Hmmmn…" she said.

Phoenix and Apollo both stared at her, dumbstruck.

"Based on the trajectory of the pastry," she said, "and the depth of the dent it left in the wall—while factoring variables in the strength of your pitching arm—I've deduced that that cupcake is inedible…"

Phoenix and Apollo remained dumbstruck—albeit—for different reasons.

"Ema," Apollo began. But he lost his train of thought.

"What are we going to do with all of these—cough—baked goods?" Phoenix said. His voice was still a little gravelly from his near death by choking.

"Can you in good conscience allow other people to eat them?" Apollo said, his tone raised and haughty with his sudden sense of altruism.

Phoenix looked a little angry all of a sudden, "How much did all of these ingredients cost?"

"Eh, Mister Wright," Apollo said tugging at his horn-like bangs, "Don't worry about that."

Phoenix made a face, "I don't see why Trucy shouldn't be allowed to sell this off to try and recoup the cost of ingredients… After all, people buy cigarettes and heroin…"

"Mister Wright!" Ema sounded horrified, "Heroin is illegal!"

"It doesn't stop people from buying it."

"Sooo…" Apollo said, "You want Trucy to sell these pastries and cakes to the unsuspecting populace?"

Phoenix stared at the piles of items already bagged and tagged for sale. There were several pyramids of cupcakes; mounds of cookies in little bags; cake pops tied in little bouquets; quick breads and brownies cut up and zip-locked—Trucy had been working so hard.

"I just want this stuff out of my apartment…" Phoenix said in a dazed monotone.

"But Mister Wright!" Apollo was shocked, "You can't let this get out on the streets—think of the children!"

"You can't make people eat this—" Ema started.

"I'm not saying you have to make anyone do anything," Phoenix said, "I don't care if anyone eats this stuff or not—but there's nothing wrong with letting folks take this stuff off our hands—for a small donation…"

"She does have amazing presentation…" Ema said tapping her chin with her pencil.

"This stuff looks good enough to eat," Apollo said.

"Tell me about it," Phoenix said and he stood up—he was still a little shaky from his ordeal.

"Daddy!" Trucy entered the door and Phoenix left the kitchen to greet her.

Ema looked at Apollo. He stared back.

"Once this gets out on the street," Apollo said cryptically, "Trucy will never bake in this town again."

Ema scribbled in her notepad. She paused to look at the accumulated baked goods.

"If we price these right," she said, "We might be able to this in one bake sale."

Apollo hung his head wearily, "By the time everyone gets paid off, will we still be able to buy a suit for Mister Wright?"

Ema stared at the baked goods again, counting their supply.

"What time is it?"

Apollo looked at his watch, "Almost seven…"

"We still have flour and sugar and most ingredients left," Ema said, "I can run over to the store for eggs or whatever if need be—even considering that—if we can keep Trucy baking for another three point seven hours, we'll be able to produce the supply we need to beat our overhead."

"Wha—?"

"Just trust me on this."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Think of the children! **

(please review... please?)

I like Apollo and Ema, but I think her crush on Edgeworth is funny and incurable.

I had a dream (or maybe it was a nightmare) that Phoenix Wright died so that the franchise would officially become Apollo Justice… It was so awful…


	5. Part 5: Word-of-the-Day

**The Wright Anything Bakery **

**Part Five**

**Word-of-the-Day**

* * *

"Mmmm…"

Apollo awoke to find Ema snuggled against him. She had her head on his shoulder her face so close to his. Close enough for him to see pale freckles scattered in tiny flecks over her nose. Her brown lashes were copper in the morning sunlight and draped over her pale cheeks. She was really pretty.

Even with a spray of flour on her nose. She smacked her lips. It was cute—weird—but cute in an Ema sort of way.

"Ohh," she moaned in her sleep, "…thas… very kind of you..."

Apollo smiled and it spread across his face like the sunrise. He turned his grin toward the ceiling, feeling like he'd finally moved forward. Like he'd been hacking away at the same tree and finally it was starting to fall.

He looked down at her, wanted to kiss her awake and hold her while they watched the rest of the sunrise. She pushed her self closer against him, nuzzling his chest.

"Mmmm…"

Apollo swallowed. This was frightening but wonderful.

"I've never…" she spoke breathily in her slumber. It made him blush.

"M-miles…"

What?

"Can I call you Miles?"

Really?

Apollo shoved her off of him and sat up.

"Hey!"

"Come on Ema, we gotta sell some cupcakes!"

He got to his feet and went to the small tidy kitchen, his apartment's layout matched the Wright Anything Agency downstairs—except for the extra room. He made coffee and left it to percolate and turned on the shower in the bedroom.

"I'm going to run home real quick," Ema called through the noise of running water.

"Hurry," Apollo said.

"Polly said he'd set up and man the booth while I'm in class," Trucy said.

Phoenix still couldn't speak. But he smiled and nodded and sipped his coffee. Trucy slathered jelly on her toast and grabbed her bag.

"Bye Daddy!" She kissed him on the cheek and left.

Phoenix took another draught from his coffee mug and then shuddered as he stared out at the piles of pastries heaped onto any available surface, all set neatly in trays and wrapped in cellophane or baggies and labeled for sale. He swallowed apprehensively.

"Sometimes, you just have to tell her no. Why can't you do that?" He said to his wavering reflection in the coffee mug.

There was a knock at the door, but Apollo let himself in before Phoenix could stand up and open it.

"Morning, Mister Wright," he said.

"Apollo," Phoenix said, "Coffee?"

"No thanks," Apollo said, "I've already had some—Ema's on her way back soon and she's bringing a couple guys from the precinct to help out."

"Good," Phoenix said and his eyes swept the bread and pastry covered landscape again, this time with less dismay.

"Do you think you could hang out and wait for them?"

"Are they going to come by before noon? I have an appointment…"

"You have an appointment, Mister Wright? Already?"

"Well no—it's not… It's not a client. It's a personal matter."

Apollo frowned, "I don't see why they'd come after noon. The money time is now. For all the folks that skipped breakfast."

"Okay," Phoenix said.

"Well, I'm going to run. I thought I'd put up a couple flyers to advertise the sale."

"Good idea…" Phoenix said absently.

Marketing might help boost sales—but this late in the game? Phoenix was starting to wonder if they should just hire a garbage truck to take the lot of it away before Trucy got back from school. He'd find a way to deal with the expenses.

"Bye, Mister Wright," Apollo said as he brushed past toward the door. Phoenix hadn't realized Apollo was still in the apartment. But then, he kind of worked here.

"Look lively, fellas," Ema said to the line of detectives and police officers she'd managed to gather for her cause—there were nine of them.

She had her hands on her hips and leaned forward toward them pointing a beat up Ticonderoga No.2 pencil in their direction.

"We've got a big job ahead of us, boys," Ema said, even though only six of them were male. She started to pace.

"The fate of Justice hangs in the balance. You need to know what every other guy on the team is doing. Every single one of you needs to be in harmony with the others, working in unison like cogs in the machine. We are only going to be strong together. It is imperative that we present a united front."

She paused for a moment and glanced up at Apollo when he entered the room.

"You might have heard that some people over at the prosecutor's building are calling this a waste of resources. Well I say we are servants of the people! And if helping the community is wrong then I don't want to be right!"

The detectives stared at her with a mixture of concern and confusion. Apollo frowned.

"The odds are against us," Ema continued, "But we're not here about the odds. The times are changing here, people and we're bringing Wright back to the world. Today we're cancelling the apocalyp—"

"Okay," Apollo said and threw his arms around her, "Whoever's helping out with the bake sale gather around."

Phoenix stepped out of the fitting room and stood with his arms down at his side and grinned at Edgeworth.

"How do I look?"

Edgeworth didn't look up from the newspaper he was reading, "I don't care and I have no opinion."

"Hey, this was your idea—"

"Considering the high risk of you showing up in a sweatshirt," Edgeworth said pointedly, "One can hardly blame me for suggesting this. As long as you're wearing a proper suit, I could care less how it looks or fits."

"So what do you think about—"

"Just hurry up and decide what you want, Wright. I have to get back to work before the children tear the place down."

Phoenix smiled again and raised an eyebrow, "Well… Next you'll be yelling at them to get off your grass."

"Oh, how clever Wright—you realize we're the same age."

"I wasn't making fun of your age, I was making fun of your cantankerousness."

"Did you learn that from your 'Word-of-the-Day' desk calendar?"

"Ha!" Phoenix said, "You can't prove that I—"

He didn't see where Edgeworth pulled the small square leaf of paper from, only that he suddenly had his hand up and the paper was resting between his first and second fingers. It reminded him of one of Trucy's magic tricks.

It took Phoenix a moment to shrug off his startled hesitation, but he stepped down from the raised floor and took it and then stepped back up.

'Otiose' the paper read and the IPA spelling was held in parenthesis next to it. Lazy, useless… Why did Edgeworth give him thi—

"Turn it over," Edgeworth said as if reading his thoughts. Phoenix shot him a glare and then turned the leaf of paper over.

'Daddy,

I'm not coming home after school. I will be with Apollo and Ema at Expose Park to help with the bake sale! I hope you come by!

Love,

Trucy'

Phoenix was smiling as he read it. He could hear her sweet voice forming the words—hang on!

"How did you get a hold of this Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth took a moment to fold up his paper and tucked it down into the seat beside him. He whipped off his glasses and leaned forward with a smirk.

"My," he drawled, "You're angry."

"Edgeworth! How the hell did you—?!"

"Ah. One: I proved that you do—in fact—have a 'Word-of-the-Day' calendar—it's from last year, by the way—and two: I've given you a very important message that otherwise might have been missed. You should be glad, if not utterly amazed."

"Yeah but—"

"While I'm flattered that you seem to think I've managed to sneak into your flat without you noticing, peruse the place for information without you noticing, and steal this document—I assure you that's not what happened. I saw it stuck to the sleeve of your ridiculous sweatshirt—another reason to be rid of it—and merely retrieved it. I didn't know at that time that it was important."

Phoenix stared at him. He was starting to get that creeping feeling in his gut—like he felt before a trial. Like he was still missing something or he wasn't ready.

"I don't know if I'm ready to go back to court."

Edgeworth leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and smiled. It was only a small smile, tight lipped but genuine, "You were never ready, even back then. That never seemed to stop you before."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a donation! (or a Review…)**

(or Edgeworth will ninja into your house and take your secret notes)

Next the thrilling conclusion! (I hope it's thrilling… Especially after Ema's battle speech…)


	6. Part 6: The Most Important Thing

**The Wright Anything Bakery **

**Part Six**

**The Most Important Thing**

* * *

"Don't back down!"

Ema lifted her finger off of the button that keyed the mic on the loudspeaker. They had four tables going, each manned by a single cashier, while the remaining detectives ushered in the unwary crowds. Early on, an ambulance had been brought in to triage any victims of cake or pastry. A second one was on the way.

It was bedlam. It was frightening. But war was never easy. Ema crossed her arms with steely resolve.

Edgeworth exited the stairwell and was rudely interrupted on his way toward his office.

"Herr Edgeworth! Mein Führer—"

Edgeworth pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes and then glared up at Klavier Gavin.

"Mister Gavin," he said, "I've asked you time and again to refrain from referring to me as "Führer". As it were, I'm quite fed up with your antics—if you continue to sputter about in broken English, I will call immigration and you will be deported to Mexico within the hour."

"Ja—but Herr—Mister Edgeworth, I'm not from Mexico—"

"Of course you're not! But that's where you'll be sent!"

Klavier scooted to the side to let the Chief Prosecutor pass. Then he remembered.

"Ach! Mein Foo—Mister Chief!"

"What is it?"

"There is a problem at the Expose Park!"

Edgeworth turned to look at him. The cold glare was sharp enough to cut glass. Klavier smiled sheepishly and backed away a few steps.

"There is a problem at Expose Park!"

Edgeworth's brows knit, "You said that twice, Mister Gavin. Please elaborate."

"You have to see for yourself!" Apollo shouted into his phone while the masses in the park roared around him.

"Great! We'll see you then!"

He hung up and looked toward the tables they'd set up that morning. One of the cops had driven his police car onto the grass and it sat in the field flashing red and blue light while music blared from its stereo. Someone in a Blue Badger costume was dancing along and waving a sign that read, "Cupcakes for Justice!" So far, they'd cleared seven hundred dollars—two hundred thirty-seven dollars after expenses.

Wait until Trucy sees this! She's going to be ecstatic!

Apollo ran down the hill and pushed through the churning crowds toward HQ. Mustn't let Ema out of his sight for too long! Apollo grinned to himself as he shoved his way past mostly policemen and civil workers from the nearby municipal buildings. Not a few of them were doubled over and spitting out pastries.

"Wait," Edgeworth whipped off his glasses and narrowed his eyes at the blonde young man seated in front of him, "You mean to tell me that Wright spent a thousand dollars on shoes—and they weren't even custom made?"

"Ja. That is what the Detective told me."

"So now half the district is hanging out in Expose Park and having a massive food fight?"

"Ja."

"Preposterous!"

"Ja."

"Trucy, maybe we could stay in and spend some time together," Phoenix said, offering his daughter a simpering smile and begging her with puppy-dog eyes, "When I start working again, we won't have as much time—"

"But Daddy! I wanted to surprise you! Why would you go and call Mister Edgeworth? He ruined it!"

"Oh, well, honey… He gave me the bill too…"

Trucy's face brightened, "So… So Daddy, I can still pay for your suit? Can I?"

Phoenix frowned, there was no way of knowing if the bake sale was a success or not. He dropped his head into his hands—why didn't he stop them when he had the chance?

"Trucy, baby… Don't take this the wrong way…" Phoenix began.

Trucy stared at him, her wide blue eyes ever earnest and innocent locked on his.

"Daddy? I didn't make enough cake pops did I? Oooh… Ema was right—our overhead was probably too high…"

"Ah… no sweetheart," Phoenix said, "You had plenty of cake pops, and cupcakes and muffins and cookies and cakes and—all kinds of baked… um baked… food… stuff…"

"No one is buying them? Apollo said things were going well…"

Phoenix looked shocked, "He did?"

"Yeah, I talked to him on my way in. I was going to go straight over, but I thought you'd like to come too. So then you could help and not feel like it was charity…"

Phoenix stared at her. A mist stung his eyes and he started to choke up a little—Trucy knew him too well. She cared about him so much. His little girl took care of him better than he could take care of himself. Better than he did for her…

Phoenix put his arms around her and hugged her tight.

"Wait! You can't do this!"

Ema threw herself in between bake sale table number one and a very irritable Miles Edgeworth.

"Are you aware, Detective Skye, of just how many codes you're violating with this… this… fiasco?"

Apollo was watching them from his vantage at bake sale table number two and he pumped his fist in silent victory. Prosecutor Gavin was standing just behind Edgeworth and he turned and met Apollo's eye. Apollo nodded a small acknowledgement.

"But Mister Edgeworth! What about Trucy? What about Mister Wright's new suit? What about justice?"

"Cease this madness at once! This is coming out of your pay!"

Apollo frowned, would Edgeworth really dock her pay? Rumor was he'd done it before. Edgeworth had a foot up on the table and was reaching over trying to wrestle the loudspeaker from Ema's hands.

"I will never surrender!"

Ema's voice popped and fizzed as she shouted into it and the high whine of feedback made Edgeworth back away for a moment.

"Never!"

"How come you never said anything before?" Trucy asked as they walked toward the park.

Phoenix had an arm wrapped protectively over her shoulders and put his head down guiltily.

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings. You always looked so happy, and a couple of swigs of Pepto and a night in the bathroom is worth seeing you shine with that look of accomplishment. To me that was more important."

"Daddy, I'm so sorry you got sick all those times…"

"Nah, don't worry about it Truce. I'm tougher than I look," Phoenix said.

"Yeah you are," Trucy said with a small smile, "You know Daddy, I wish you had told me the truth sooner. I never really liked baking—you could've spared both of us all that trouble."

Phoenix grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, " I feel like there's a lesson in here somewhere…"

They stopped at the edge of the park and gaped at the scene in front of them. People were milling about in a daze—most of them police officers and civil servants, some coughing up pastries. Ema was sobbing into Apollo's arms, a torn sign that read "cupcakes for justice" littered the ground next to them. Klavier Gavin and a detective neither of them recognized were dragging large garbage bins and dumping the remaining pastries. Edgeworth, livid, stood on one of the tables with a loud speaker. He was saying things like, "Nothing to see here," and "Move along".

"Daddy, things went horribly wrong…"

"Oh boy," Phoenix said, "They sure did."

"So what I think…" Trucy began haltingly—she was thoroughly distracted by the scene in front of her, "I think that the most important thing is to be honest with the ones you love. Because a lie—even a tiny one meant to spare someone's feelings—can get blown out of proportion."

"Wright!"

Edgeworth's voice crackled through the megaphone. Phoenix frowned.

* * *

_**A/N: And that's all she wrote! Thanks for reading! Thanks too to Ace Fangirl for posting this challenge, I hope this story met that challenge!**_

_**(Did I win?)**_

_I never really decided who annoyed me more in AA:AJ, Klavier Gavin or Apollo Justice… I think Klavier Gavin won… I guess Apollo tends to grow on you…_

_Deported to Mexico… Does Mexico have negative connotations for Edgeworth? (that seems familiar… uh yeah this is some shameless plugging!)_


End file.
